


Love, coffee and other delusions

by Saltyfang



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - No Powers, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Jason is a Dork, Marinette Dupain-Cheng Is a Mess, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug Is a Tease, Tim Drake Needs a Break
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:40:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28905006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saltyfang/pseuds/Saltyfang
Summary: Marinette is a sassy coffee shop worker who just wants to have a little fun on a boring shift. She did not expect someone, Jason Todd no less, to walk through the door and see her practicing her clumsy dance routine.In which Marinette is bored, Jason is a sad boi and Tim just needs a break. Oh and Dick is waiting for the manor to fall apart.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Luka Couffaine & Jason Todd, Luka Couffaine & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Comments: 3
Kudos: 118





	Love, coffee and other delusions

**Author's Note:**

> This is separate to in this together ( I haven't forgotten about it). This is what you call 3am writings. So it may have mistakes. I'm sorry if it does.  
> <3

Marinette had been sweeping the backroom, humming along to Jagged's new single. The shop remained extremely quiet, except from the periodic squeaking of her trainers as she slid around on the polished floor. Was she making her job harder? _Yes_. Did she give a damn? Most definitely _not_. It was fun, she was a quick worker and the shop was empty. She could do whatever the fuck she wanted and would still get paid. Although, she always cleaned up because her conscience loved to gnaw at her insides if she did something slightly wrong. It was torture, actually having to be truthful all the time and she was a terrible liar, especially under pressure.

None of that mattered because her manager left her in charge on weekends whilst he went to whop for supplies. He could never take him seriously with his floppy mop of hair and the permanent grin seared onto his face. It wasn’t like he was serious either, he dropped as many puns in a sentence as her Papa.

So, he probably wouldn’t care that she was pretending to ice skate and do the tango by herself. Sequentially of course. She may have been bored but she wasn’t stupid. Well, that was a tiny white lie but it was illogical to do both at the same time. She had landed a triple axel and a quadruple toe loop, ending with a knee slide. She leapt over the desk, grabbed the rose, clamped her mouth around it and had proceeded to dip the dripping mop, giving it her most sultry look.

“You got to be the best coffee shop worker I’ve met. And I’ve met several.” This was true. Being Tim's sibling was not easy- from the impromptu 1am dashes to the grocers to buy beans or the painstakingly long wait in coffee shops. The worker leapt into the air, hissing in surprise which made him chuckle.

Marinette was astounded when she saw- rather heard- a customer for the first time in two months.

Wait what? There wasn’t a zombie apocalypse? Business was actually just that slow? And now they actually had a customer? When? She hadn’t even heard the door open. And now she looked like a mess and probably looked like she hadn’t interacted with humans for months, which was true but she didn’t want to be _exposed_.

“How can I help you... Dennis?” She cocked her eyebrow, laughing as he rocked on the balls of his feet.

“Oh, the name’s actually Jason, love. I wear this name tag because it’s funny to see people flounder as if I were the walking dead. And then apologise profusely cuz they think they’ve got the wrong person.” His eyes radiated amusement at his disguised joke, knowing she wouldn’t get it.

“Well then, Jason. Maybe they've seen a ghost. After all, you were pronounced dead by some pretty legit sources. Eh, but what do I know? I’m just a-"

“Don’t you dare finish off that line with ‘ _woman_ ’. Worse yet, ‘ _kid_ ’. I’ve had it stuck in my head all morning.”

“3, 2, 1.” She heard his anguished scream as the opening tune played. “and hold your horses, mister, I was just going to say a coffee shop worker. Also, what the hell are you doing here? You haven’t actually given your order.”

“Trying to speak to a pretty lady?”

“What, because you pop into random shops, hoping to find a pretty lady manning the till?”

“Yup, pretty much.” He sauntered up to the till between them, delicately swinging his hips to show her he was kidding. For good measure, he threw in wink, fanning himself as he leant against it. He was just that hot, that even he couldn't handle the heat. He was very seductive when he wanted to be.

“Monsieur, goodbye. I think you came to the wrong shop. I’m not pretty and I’m sure as hell not a lady. At least not by society’s standards.” He could see how riled up the topic was making her but the fire in her eyes and the tension in her shoulders were inexplicably attractive.

“Lady, please, pretty doesn’t begin to describe you. And what do mean you aren’t a lady?”

“Well, every time I brought up a hobby at my old school, I’d get teased. Whether it was football -no- it’s soccer in Gotham.” She saw him nod and she beamed at her accurate retention of such useless knowledge. “Anyways, soccer, skateboarding, boxing. These were all ‘men's' sports. And I couldn’t even do any science-based subjects because my school were a sexist school. They even policed what I wore.” She turned her back on him, retrieving her secret stash of coffee beans to make his blend.

“If I may, Pixie, your school was a fucking shit institution. Dude, leave that in the last _millennium_. Women can’t do science or play soccer? _Bullshit_. My last crush was better at me at both. And I was quite the nerd before my ‘ _death_ ’.” His death was common knowledge to most so he could casually drop it in a sentence. But this time, it felt different. For the first time, his chest didn’t constrict and the flashbacks remained suppressed. He actually talked about his death, albeit jokingly, without awakening the dormant trauma that resided in him. He donned a semblance of a smile, stuffing his hands in his leather pockets.

“I switched schools a little too late. The air heads in my school got me hooked on designing and shit. At one point, I was wearing so much makeup that I could have painted a canvas with my face.” She turned around, extra packets of sugar in her hand for her special coffee. The one she had been making for herself before he had shown up. Now it was for the dude Jason had told her about. “Woah, dude, are you okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” he asked, incredulous. He felt his stomach churn and could feel the blood drain out of his face. Could she see it too?

“Hon, you’re crying.” She flashed her makeup mirror at him, which he refused to acknowledge.

“That’s ridiculous, I haven’t cried since- oh look at that, I am.” He conceded defeat when she shoved the mirror into his line of sight. “Eh, I’m used to it anyway.” The suffocating silence that ensued was what Jason interpreted as his cue to leave. “Well, thanks Pixie. I’ll give my brother your coffee but expect to be heckled in the next few hours.” He saw her extend her arms out, a silent question floating in the air. 

‘Can I hug you?’ he backed away slowly, feeling like a feral wolf being challenged by a black bear. Then, he looked at her. _Really_ looked at her and the tenderness in her eyes made him stop. He trudged forwards, one step at a time, grinding to an abrupt halt before nestling into her arms. Gently, she stroked his hair, despite being a good head shorter than him. He buried his face into her neck and slowly, she wrapped her arms around him, careful not to alarm him. A few things concerned her, but she was happy enough to stay like this until he had calmed down. His ratcheting sobs reverberated through her and she could feel him shuddering as he tried to choke them down.

“Let it all out,” she whispered, cooing softly in baby talk. She heard him snigger slightly, an improvement from before. “If you’re worried about getting snot in my shirt, don’t worry. Some asshole that works at the fabric store I frequent loves to hug me so I’ll be glad to exhale some sort of karmic revenge. Honestly, you’re doing me a favour.” Jason lifted his head up slowly and the sight of his bleary eyes and scarlet nose broke her heart. He had been crying for at least 20 minutes, something she was sure was out of the ordinary for the notorious bad boy of Gotham.

“Sorry, I don’t usually cry on beautiful women for that long.” He said, winking in an attempt to regain his suaveness. After all, he had a reputation to uphold. But instead of looking breath-taking or hot, he looked a mess. A hot mess, truth be told, but still a mess. It was something Marinette found incredibly endearing and adorable. His charm hadn’t worked on her and she chose to wrap her arms tighter around him. Not like he minded as he nuzzled his nose into her neck before stiffening.

“Mari? Marinette?” Called her boss, blindly fumbling for the light. The brightness had been too much for her eyes and she yelled in pain. Fortunately, the sensation faded in seconds. Unfortunately, her brain had been a few seconds behind, oblivious to how compromising the position she was in with Jason appeared. She had no idea why her manager was gawking at her like she had grown two heads until she looked down. 

‘ _Shit_ ,’ she thought, flushing at Jason’s head resting snugly on her neck. ‘ _I am so fired. I have to at least salvage the situation.’_ Gently, she shook Jason, making him budge slightly from his resting position.

“We weren’t doing anything.” She yelled, aware of how screechy her voice sounded. 

“Now it makes sense why you weren’t answering my calls. Comforting the customer first? I’m proud of you.” Huh? Her boss believed her? Either he was stupidly naive or just had faith in his employee. He could have fired her then. He’d have people begging for the job in minutes. Anyone would be lucky to be hired by such a lenient man who paid his staff well. So, why didn’t he relieve her of her duties? Surely, she had violated the store’s policy? Wasn’t there a rule? There was no way that whatever this was would be allowed.

“Son, have a coffee on the house. I’m sure Mari's caused you some trouble.” Jason had looked enraged, ready to retort when Marinette flung back her response.

“Just as much as you caused me trouble last month, Luki. I’m sure the girls love calling you that when you’re on tour and leaving me to run this place.”

“Fair enough, Che-Che. I left the place to you with help but you said you could handle it. Plus, I think I’ve actually got an affinity for hearing that name because I could have sworn that you were the one who first said the name?” She blabbered incoherent garble as he threw her a melodramatic wink, before quietly exiting the room. 

“ _ **Soooo**_ , that your boyfriend?” asked Jason, unashamedly. He really hoped her reply would be no but life was cruel. It would be an odd yet welcomed twist of fate if she was indeed single.

Wait? _Welcomed_? Jason Todd did not hope women were single. It was the other way around.

But how could he not? Marinette was pretty, majestic, goofy but so calming. She was amazing. She was so dreamy.

“Jason?” Marinette stepped back, making his head droop in the air. He cried, internally, at the loss of warmth and comfort before realising she was talking to him. 

“Huh?” was the most sophisticated answer he could present her with. “I was listening.” He stumbled over to somewhere that he could rest his head on before snacking his head on the wooden table.

“Hmm. Sure you were. But I’ll repeat what I said for my benefit. That reptile-" 

“Hey, I heard that mouse. I’d eat you for breakfast.” Luka had actually swung open his office door to stick his tongue out at Marinette who flipped him the finger.

“Luka,” she said, emphasising his name. Jason could see her ire as the vein in her forehead popped. She was a decent actor but her body language and eyes betrayed her fondness towards Luka. “Is lucky when I call him a friend. He’s definitely not my boyfriend.”

“Say that to the picture shrine you made in your bedroom.” She groaned, clearly embarrassed by his claim. The blush that coated her cheeks indicated that Luka had not been embellishing that statement and that it was true. He shouldn’t have, but Jason laughed, bringing Marinette’s attention to him. Her head swivelled around and she huffed playfully, pouting.

“Luka could you not eavesdrop? You’re embarrassing me.” Luka banged against the wall and a loud clattering noise followed by a slew of curses could be heard.

“Mari, you were crowned as the Jester in the Court. In a contest, you won the highest honour. I think you do the embarrassing _yourself_. And it’s hard not to eavesdrop when you can’t whisper. I can hear you over my music.”

“You listen to raindrops hitting a window for music. Of course, you can hear me. And that was a fundraiser for charity. You chose to take the easier job of an autograph booth, you meanie.” She actually enjoyed listening to his music but that was beside the point.

“You told me to because you thought we’d make more money. You told me you wanted to beat those ‘snobby slobs' running against us. You even sold a dress you made.”

“Fine. Ugh, why do you have to be right? Wait, don’t make me agree with you.”

“Kay. And Mari? Have fun on your date.” Luka had ignored Marinette’s indignant cry and had chosen to pick up his guitar. He strummed loudly, as the harsh cacophony of sounds melded into one, soothing an antsy Marinette and an amused Jason. 

“He seems nice,” started Jason. Drowsily, he lifted his head up, peering up at her with half-lidded eyes.

Marinette hadn’t heard the rest of what he had said because she was too busy gawking at him. She needed his genetics. He actually looked pretty, ethereal even, after bawling his eyes out. How? She was lucky if she looked somewhat _presentable_ with puffy red eyes and the bags underneath her eyes became more prominent. Jason, however, looked like he had walked straight out of a photoshoot rocking his bedhead. A normal fashion faux pas if done wrong but perfect for making her weak in the knees when done right. And Jason knew how to do it right.

He smirked, no doubt seeing the red that crept up her neck. His mouth had been moving but she couldn’t hear anything above the vigorous pounding of her heart. He had reached out his hand just as her knees buckled but she scuttled away, not noticing the frown that had appeared on his face. Using the table between them for stability, she stood up, indulging herself in counting the money in the tips jar. The jar that hadn’t been filled in months. Shakily, she took a few deep breaths, acknowledging the way her shoulders shuddered. The look of concern that flitted across Jason’s face had made goose bumps erupt on her skin and she turned, slapping her face with both hands before pasting on her best fake smile.

“How can I help you?” she said, employing her signature customer service voice. She saw how bewildered Jason looked but she couldn’t focus. She was flying by on autopilot, making things up as she went. Because apparently, Jason had the ability to shut her whole system down.

Only two other people had been able to do that to her. And she had been in love with them.

“I wanted to get an order for the strongest coffee you can make.” Thank goodness. He had asked a question about something she actually knew how to prepare without thinking about it. “Marinette, did I upset you? I’m sorry.” The vulnerability of his stance made her gasp, before mentally berating herself. If there was one thing that rebooted her, it was guilt. She sighed, drawing her eyebrows together before squaring her shoulders.

Sidestepping the table, she moved towards Jason, determinedly. She pulled him into a hug, something she would scream about when she sobered up. After a few seconds passed, she pulled away.

“Sorry, Jason. I didn’t mean to give that impression. I was just occupied by my thoughts. I’ll make you that coffee. But you don’t look like you’ll be able to stomach it.” She teased him, seeing a small grin settle on his face.

“It’s not for me. It’s for Timmers. I wouldn’t touch that if I didn’t have to. Unfortunately, I owe him a favour and I also just want him to go to sleep,” he grimaced, thinking back to how many sleepless nights Tim had had. At this point, he was going to tire himself out and completely wipe out. 

“Ahh, coffee zombie. I’ll give him my speciality. It’s technically not on the menu because it uses my stash of beans but it’ll make it for him.” She knew the pain of needing to sleep but not being able to. Years at fashion school had made her an expert in that. She could start a course on it with the amount of material she had.

“How much will that be?” he said, pulling out his wallet.

“It’s for free, remember. I think Luka would kill me if I charged you after I caused you trouble.” She laughed and tapped her nose mouthing _‘it’ll be our little secret.’_

She came out five minutes later with his freshly remade order, a few pastries and a cup of hot chocolate with marshmallows and caramel.

“Your order,” she said, bringing him a takeaway tray. “I added in a few more things, but good luck with your brother.”

“Marinette, you didn’t have to. Seriously, I can’t accept this.” He pushed the tray back in her direction, faltering for a moment when he saw the expression on her face.

“It’s _free_. A gift for keeping me company on what would have been a dull Saturday.” She gave him a pointed glare and gently grabbed his hands. She wrapped them around the tray, ushering him away from the cash register.

“In that case,” he started, retrieving money from his wallet. “I’ll just tip. Your jar was looking pretty lonely and there’s no point in it collecting dust. Have a nice day, Pixie.”

He waved, pushing open the door - which did not make a sound. Gosh, Marinette really needed to get that checked. He ran, hopping onto his motorcycle. He chuckled when Marinette ran out of the shop with a wooden spoon while shaking her fist at him. He meandered his way through the traffic before blending into the crowd. 

He had paid. _Mission accomplished_. 

Now all he had to do was give Tim his coffee peacefully. As much as he wanted to shove the coffee and food down his throat, he was sane enough to know Bruce would disapprove and probably bullshit his way into reprimanding him. He just needed to suppress his urges for the short time that Replacement would drink the coffee and devour the pastries before he could inflict chaos.

If that failed, then Jason still had Plan B up his sleeve.

Dick was concerned.

Jason hadn’t acted like he wanted to kill someone for a few hours and the **_manor_** was deeply concerned. He had actually volunteered to help with chores, had actually ignored their taunts and had been smiling like a loon. Dick attributed it to him meeting someone but it just didn’t make sense. 

Jason hated coffee shops almost as much as Tim hated sleep. It was a given. Jason complained at how stuffy the atmosphere was and how loud it could get when rush hour hit. Plus, the scents of all the different brews assaulted his nose to the point where tears would prick his eyes. Jason had never willingly set foot into a cafe unless he had been roped into doing so.

So, it just didn’t make sense for him to have dithered in the shop long enough to ‘ _meet_ ' someone. Jason was more likely to ride his motorcycle on a park bench or something like that. That thought was probably what had Jason smiling so widely with the amount of anarchy he caused. And the frown that had just settled on his face was probably because he hadn’t caused enough damage.

_Don’t question it_. Sometimes Jason was weird like that.

Jason felt weird. No, stupid encompassed what he was feeling. 

_Him. Jason Todd. The cool, smart, handsome, amazing, cool man he was had forgot to ask for Marinette’s number._

_Shit_. 

“ **TIMBO**!” He yelled. He got a disgruntled but sleepy groan in response. “I’m going to sharpen my guns. I mean polish my guns.” He said, confused as to why he was terrible at lying now.

“Why does it concern _me_?” Came the muffled reply. Tim was slumped over, looking at the coffee like it held all his answers. Slowly, he sipped his coffee, his head nodding with each swallow.

“I’m also going to get you more coffee.” Tim hadn’t smiled but he could see the gratitude oozing from his eyes and his hand wrapped around Jason’s in desperation. It was a sign of an emotion- something that was quite a rarity in the Manor. “Not so fast Replacement. I’ll only get it for you if you sleep.”

Tim faltered, looking over to the huge pile of papers he had yet to complete. He huffed, deliberating over his choices. On one hand, the coffee was heavenly. On the other, he’d have to sleep and neglect his work. He winced and he extended his hand out, murmuring “deal.”

Welp, that made Jason’s job easier. He could see Marinette under the guise of appeasing his brother – because believe it or not, he genuinely cared about Tim's wellbeing- and he’d be able to ‘ _polish his guns’_.

Wait. Asking for Mari's phone number wasn’t too forward, right?

_Right_? 


End file.
